frowning at her.
“At least you’ll be safe there. She…” Karya noticed that Robin was staring at her in confusion and trailed off.
“Look,” she said decisively. “I really can’t stay and explain everything to you now. There isn’t time. The longer I stay, the easier it is for the skrikers to pinpoint me. I thought things would be easier than this…”
She fumbled in the pocket of her coat.
“Here,” she said, drawing out a long slim wooden box and thrusting it into his hands.
“What’s this?” Robin asked, staring at it.
“It’ll let you find me, later, when things have calmed down a bit. Put it away for now.” She flapped her hands at him impatiently.
There was a noise outside the train. It resolved itself into what sounded like a long, mournful howl. It was loud and close by.
Robin stared at the curtained window. “What was that?” he said.
“I’ve run out of time.” The girl jumped to her feet. “If I don’t go now, they’ll track me. If they find me, they’ll find you. Then we’re all in trouble.”
“Who’ll find you?” said Robin. His hand moved toward the curtain on the window.
“Don’t open that!” the girl shouted.
Robin jumped. “Why not?”
“Leave it,” she snapped.
The howl came again, closer still.
The girl was already at the door. “I have to go,” she said. “Keep that safe, Robin. For Tartar’s sake, put it away. And don’t go talking to strangers.”
Robin slipped the thin wooden case into his pocket. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. “You’re a stranger.”
Karya smirked in spite of herself, her golden eyes twinkling. “There are stranger strangers than me,” she said. “See you soon, Scion.”
She touched the wall of the train compartment.
There was a heavy thud at the window, and a dark shadow filled the small curtained square, blocking out the sunlight. The girl, almost lost in the deepening shadows, muttered something under her breath and seemed to tense.
Then the door to the carriage threw itself open.
Robin jumped and looked from Karya to the figure in the doorway.
“Tickets please,” said the conductor. “Hey, it’s dark in here!” he exclaimed. His eyes fell on Robin suspiciously. “What are you up to, lad?”
Robin looked back to Karya for help, only to find that she was gone. There was nobody else in the carriage with him. Robin stared dumbfounded at the patch of empty wall against which she had been stood. It seemed, for a split second, to be rippling.
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” said the conductor. “You alright, son? You look a bit off.”
“I’m fine,” said Robin quietly. He looked back at the conductor, wondering if he were going mad.
“Well, if you’re feeling sick, open the window,” the man said. “It’s stuffy in here. Do you no good sitting in the dark.”
Robin opened the curtain, filling the carriage with innocent sunlight. There was nothing outside. No howling creature, no shadows. The sunny countryside flew by, as normal as could be.
“Just you in here is it?” said the conductor, reaching for Robin’s ticket.
“Apparently,” Robin replied absently.
“Eh?”
Robin remembered himself. “Yes,” he said. “I mean, yes. Just me … Sorry.”
The conductor clipped his ticket and gave him a funny look, as though he wasn’t sure if Robin were trying to be cheeky.
“Where you off to then?” he asked.
“Barrowood,” Robin replied.
“Nice little village.” The conductor nodded as he made his way back out of the door. “Get your bags ready then,” he called as the door closed. “It’s the next stop.”
Chapter Two – Mr Moros and Malcolm Drover
The tiny train station in the village of Barrowood was utterly deserted. Robin stood on the platform with his large battered suitcase beside him. Beyond the quaint stone train station, there was nothing but rising hills covered in a thick carpet of autumnal trees. He assumed that the village lay through
“At least you’ll be safe there. She…” Karya noticed that Robin was staring at her in confusion and trailed off.
“Look,” she said decisively. “I really can’t stay and explain everything to you now. There isn’t time. The longer I stay, the easier it is for the skrikers to pinpoint me. I thought things would be easier than this…”
She fumbled in the pocket of her coat.
“Here,” she said, drawing out a long slim wooden box and thrusting it into his hands.
“What’s this?” Robin asked, staring at it.
“It’ll let you find me, later, when things have calmed down a bit. Put it away for now.” She flapped her hands at him impatiently.
There was a noise outside the train. It resolved itself into what sounded like a long, mournful howl. It was loud and close by.
Robin stared at the curtained window. “What was that?” he said.
“I’ve run out of time.” The girl jumped to her feet. “If I don’t go now, they’ll track me. If they find me, they’ll find you. Then we’re all in trouble.”
“Who’ll find you?” said Robin. His hand moved toward the curtain on the window.
“Don’t open that!” the girl shouted.
Robin jumped. “Why not?”
“Leave it,” she snapped.
The howl came again, closer still.
The girl was already at the door. “I have to go,” she said. “Keep that safe, Robin. For Tartar’s sake, put it away. And don’t go talking to strangers.”
Robin slipped the thin wooden case into his pocket. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. “You’re a stranger.”
Karya smirked in spite of herself, her golden eyes twinkling. “There are stranger strangers than me,” she said. “See you soon, Scion.”
She touched the wall of the train compartment.
There was a heavy thud at the window, and a dark shadow filled the small curtained square, blocking out the sunlight. The girl, almost lost in the deepening shadows, muttered something under her breath and seemed to tense.
Then the door to the carriage threw itself open.
Robin jumped and looked from Karya to the figure in the doorway.
“Tickets please,” said the conductor. “Hey, it’s dark in here!” he exclaimed. His eyes fell on Robin suspiciously. “What are you up to, lad?”
Robin looked back to Karya for help, only to find that she was gone. There was nobody else in the carriage with him. Robin stared dumbfounded at the patch of empty wall against which she had been stood. It seemed, for a split second, to be rippling.
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” said the conductor. “You alright, son? You look a bit off.”
“I’m fine,” said Robin quietly. He looked back at the conductor, wondering if he were going mad.
“Well, if you’re feeling sick, open the window,” the man said. “It’s stuffy in here. Do you no good sitting in the dark.”
Robin opened the curtain, filling the carriage with innocent sunlight. There was nothing outside. No howling creature, no shadows. The sunny countryside flew by, as normal as could be.
“Just you in here is it?” said the conductor, reaching for Robin’s ticket.
“Apparently,” Robin replied absently.
“Eh?”
Robin remembered himself. “Yes,” he said. “I mean, yes. Just me … Sorry.”
The conductor clipped his ticket and gave him a funny look, as though he wasn’t sure if Robin were trying to be cheeky.
“Where you off to then?” he asked.
“Barrowood,” Robin replied.
“Nice little village.” The conductor nodded as he made his way back out of the door. “Get your bags ready then,” he called as the door closed. “It’s the next stop.”
Chapter Two – Mr Moros and Malcolm Drover
The tiny train station in the village of Barrowood was utterly deserted. Robin stood on the platform with his large battered suitcase beside him. Beyond the quaint stone train station, there was nothing but rising hills covered in a thick carpet of autumnal trees. He assumed that the village lay through
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